


Send in that Sunshine

by FifthLegionFulminata



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Eiffel gets his ass kicked, Eiffel is homeless, Hilbert is a sugar daddy, LMAO, M/M, Someone save him from himself, Still dunno how to tag, jk, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 08:38:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12229395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FifthLegionFulminata/pseuds/FifthLegionFulminata
Summary: Dmitri is a doctor, Eiffel is homeless.





	1. Chapter 1

It was starting to get super cold, and Eiffel didn’t have a jacket anymore cause of the asshole at the shelter who took it by threatening to stab him. ‘Thats why you don’t go to shelters, idiot.’ He scolds himself, ‘theres always gonna be someone waaay bigger than your scrawny ass, and they’re gonna want your shit. Or other things.’ His shoulders slump, and his depressed sigh fogs the air before him. 'At least you hid Stella before you went, so no jerk could take that. Well, we’ll have to try to scrape up something to sleep in, cause we are definitely NOT going back to the shelter on West Street again. Fuck that, I’d rather freeze.’ He’d been homeless for a while, long enough to have known better than to go to a place full of desperate people, but it had been so cold the last few nights that he got scared and caved. He tunes Stella, his ukulele, with stiff fingers. He scowls in frustration, but takes the precious time to stretch his hands and arms to get the blood flowing enough that he can play without messing anything up. Its gloomy as shit outside, just beginning to snow, so its easy for him to think of a song that had the potential of getting him tips, launching into the opening refrain of “Here comes the Sun” with as much cheerfulness as he can muster.

The spot he chose to play in isn’t a terrible one, he’s passed by a lot of foot traffic and kept relatively dry by the awning over his head but for some reason by the time hes done he’s only accumulated $2.17 and a pocket bible. He’s determined to keep going, if he doesn’t he’ll freeze, but when he’s about to lean back and play another song he notices a pair of oxford shoes and tailored pants infront of him. He looks up, feeling nervous that its going to be the owner of the shop he’s busking in front of and shrinks into himself when he gets the full effect of the person in front of him. They’re an man, older than him by a few years given the gray in his wild dark red hair and beard, his full mouth set in what could only be a disapproving frown. His dark brown eyes are full of something like irritation, or maybe disgust, and his arms are crossed infront of his very well-dressed chest. He seems to be thinking- not saying a word- just sizing Eiffel up. Eiffel can’t keep his anxiety off of his face, looking up at the man as he tries not to cower and unaware of the thoughts going through his observers mind.

Dmitri is angry, but not at him. 'Has no one noticed that he’s in just a ratty t-shirt and jeans, it’s 25 degrees outside and no one even bothered to give him enough money to buy a jacket? Repulsive.’ He growls in irritation, feeling a moment of remorse when the young man infront of him flinches at the sound. He runs a hand through his hair, and then without any hesitation strips off his jacket and throws it over the young man before walking away so he can’t argue. Eiffel is so confused, that guy seemed to be mad at him specifically but if he was mad then why does he have this 'Fuck its so warm’ jacket half smothering him? He puts it on quickly, closing his eyes and sighing in contentment. 'Okay, not gonna question this. Maybe the guy needed some good karma, or something, but either way we aren’t gonna freeze to death tonight. Go team!’ Eiffel unconsciously snuggles into the too-big jacket, leaning his head back against the wall he’s propped against for a moment before picking Stella back up and singing again, this time to scrape together enough money to eat.

'Its cold. How was that man even able to do anything when its this cold, much less sing and play his weird little instrument.’ Dmitri mulls over the last ten minutes in his head. He had been walking to work, as usual, but he came across a young man he had never seen before. There he was, this chipper little idiot singing a song about the sun on one of the darkest winter mornings this month and he wasn’t even wearing a jacket. Dmitri clenched his teeth when he thought of how many people completely ignored the man, uncaring that their disregard could have killed him. He storms into the hospital in a foul mood, dusting snow off his clothes as he walks to his office to see what was waiting for him in the day ahead.

Eiffel finishes the day feeling like it had been one of the best days he’s had since he became homeless. He loiters in the fast food restaurant where he gets dinner until the workers start looking at him uncomfortably and mutter among themselves, so he walks back to the store he played infront of to set up his sleeping bag and try to sleep. He’s woken up with a kick to the stomach, hard enough to make him retch, and the only thing he can think is 'Fuck, this was someone else’s spot. Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ That someone else is a scraggly man with a crowbar so Eiffel wastes no time getting out of his sleeping bag and to his feet, babbling apologies to keep from having his head bashed in just for sleeping in someone else’s spot. The other man motions for him to hand over his stuff, obviously not going to let Eiffel leave without some kind of reparation, and Eiffel hands him everything but his jacket and Stella. When his expression changes from cool disinterest to unchecked rage Eiffel turns to flee only to feel something slam into the back of his head and for darkness to rush in. The only thing he does when he wakes up some time later is feel disappointed that hes still alive. Jacket- gone. Stella- smashed. He feels like someone hit him with a crowbar, which is exactly what happened, but thankfully it seems that the other guy had gotten a lucky shot in with the hit to the head because all his aches and pains are superficial. He gets up with a groan, gagging as his head spins, but he staggers to his feet only to notice that the other guy took his shoes too. Walking to a new place to wait for the sun to come up is agony but he manages and hopes that its only a few hours until daylight.

Dmitri has never been more glad that he’s a workaholic when he hears a faint, slightly slurred voice singing down an alley when he walks home hours after he should have left work. He recognizes it immediately as the man from the morning before and finds himself walking towards it with a sinking feeling. At first, based off how he’s slumped against the wall without the jacket he gave him earlier and slurring his speech, he wonders if he pawned the jacket for booze money but quickly dismisses the thought when he sees him shivering. It becomes apparent that regardless of why he’s missing it, he’s hypothermic and needs to get somewhere warm as soon as possible. 'God damn it. I knew better but I still let my temper get the best of me.’ Dmitri sighs, running a hand over his face in disgust with himself before scooping the young man off the ground and feeling concern run through him. He’s too light to be healthy, and he doesn’t react to the sudden movement except to lean his head on his shoulder and mumble, “You’re really warm.” Dmitri keeps his emotions under tight wraps while taking stock of where he is. 'Home is faster, so we’ll go there.’ Out loud, he says, “Thank you,” and the younger man just nods, sighing. The walk to his home is blessedly short, and he has to hold him tightly in order to unlock his front door, kicking it open with his foot and moving quickly to his room to lay him down gently before leaving to grab what he needs from his office. He returns and sits on the edge of the bed to test his eyes reaction to light and frowning. He turns on the lamp on the bedside table and looks at the dazed man more closely, grinding his teeth when he feels the knot forming on the back of his hair, his hand sticky with blood after touching it. He snaps his fingers infront of his face to get his attention, those big green eyes looking at him in half-awareness. “Do you recognize me?” It takes him a second, but he nods and says in a whisper, “You’re the guy who gave me his jacket.” Dmitri makes a satisfied noise before standing abruptly and walking out of the room.

He returns with a tray, setting it on the bedside table and snapping his fingers again in order to get the man’s attention. “Can you sit up at all?” His answer is a few aborted attempts, so he helps him upright and holds him up, moving efficiently as he strips off his soaked outer clothes and wrapping him in the thickest blanket he owns before handing him a steaming mug. “Drink this.” While he drinks Dmitri cleans the cut on the back of his head, muttering to himself as he does so before checking his feet for signs of frostbite. Thankfully he got to him before he developed any but they’re cut and bleeding from having to walk barefoot, and he rubs warmth into them while making sure that he’s drinking what he gave him. “Can you feel this?” He flicks the sole of his feet and nods in satisfaction when the man flinches. “Good. Drink the rest of that.” He bandages them before covering him in more blankets, glancing into the mug he’s holding to see if he’s done, and prying it out of his hands to examine them closely. The man has piano fingers, long and delicate but calloused and scarred, and Dmitri finds himself looking at them without any real reason to after noting that they weren’t frostbitten. He lets them go, looking the man in the eyes and finding them staring back at him with a dazed expression. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here if you need me.” An obedient nod from him is his response and the next thing he knows the man is snuggled into the blankets and totally asleep. He looks at his surroundings for the first time and notices the mess hes made with snow and mud tracked everywhere and soaked clothes on the floor. He stares for a long, irritated moment before getting up and cleaning. He throws the mans clothes out, apologizing mentally. 'I’ll buy him more later, but these are filthy and I refuse to keep them in my home.’ Throughout the night he gently shakes the man awake, letting him go back to sleep after he feels satisfied that he can wake him up again if need be.

'Where am I? Fuck, fuck, where am I?’ Eiffel wakes up in a panic, staring wildly around the room before freezing when he sees someone move. 'Its that guy, jacket guy, did he fucking kidnap me??’ Eiffel curls up unconsciously, trying to make himself smaller. “Where am I?” “You are in my home. You were hypothermic, I had no choice but to bring you.” His voice is thickly accented, a low rumble that makes Eiffel feel a little threatened. “Why not bring me to a hospital?” “I am a doctor, my home was closer than ER. Hypothermia needs to be taken care of as soon as possible. You also have a concussion, is why you are swaying right now.” Eiffel makes himself stop, grimacing when nausea rises in his throat. He hears a faint “tsk” and feels a warm hand on his shoulder, the stranger having crossed the room in a second. “Lay down, I would rather you not throw up in my bed, da?” Hes suddenly aware of the fact that he’s only in his underwear and panics, his mouth running off before he can think. “Where are my clothes? Did you just bring me here so I could “pay” you back?!“ He knows immediately that he’s struck a nerve, the man’s eyes half closing in a glare and his jaw clenching in whats one of the scariest expressions hes ever seen, if only because its gone so cold suddenly. "I. Am. A. Doctor. You would have died. Your clothes are in the garbage because they were beyond saving. And if you believe that half-dead scarecrows are my type, you are quite wrong; I like to be in relationship with someone who has a brain.” He takes his hand off of Eiffel’s shoulder and leaves without another word. Eiffel lays there, his mind reeling, for what feels like hours before succumbing to sleep.

He hears a snapping sound that wakes him up fully, staring around in confusion to see the man glance at him before motioning to the bedside table. “You probably should eat.” He turns to leave again and Eiffel realizes that thanks to his foot-in-mouth response to someone saving his life he’s now pissed them off. “Wait, wait, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that stuff, I’m really sorry.” Theres a tense moment before he hears him sigh, and sees him run his fingers through his hair before turning to look at him. “I should apologize. I am not known for bedside manner, tend to lose temper with people easily. My apologies. You have concussion, is not your fault you are stupid.” Eiffel sags in relief, laughing and smiling at him. “I’m Douglas Eiffel, just Eiffel is fine. Thanks for not letting me freeze to death.” “I am Dmitri Volodin. You are welcome. Now, eat.” He leaves at that, and Eiffel digs into the most food hes had in weeks. Its pretty mild, just rice in what seems to be beef broth, but he couldn’t be happier. When hes done he naps lightly until he hears something move and wakes up fully. Dmitri’s expression is one that he can’t really interpret, but if he had to guess its one of thoughtfulness. “You are awake, good. Did you want to shower?” Eiffel nods quickly before remembering that he’s got nothing to dress in, and the events of the night before come crashing back.

Dmitri feels panicked and at a loss when Eiffel suddenly starts crying, wiping at his face with his hands like a child. “Did I say something wrong? English is not my first language-” Eiffel shakes his head quickly, hiccuping as he says in a heartbroken whisper, “They killed Stella.” Horrified, he asks, “Who is Stella?” and Eiffel gives him a look of absolute despair. “My ukulele, she was all I had. This guy, I accidentally took his spot and hes the one who stole the jacket you gave me and knocked me out and that asshole even took my shoes.” Eiffel just looks at nothing, obviously very upset, and Dmitri hesitates, bemused for a second before handing him a handkerchief. “I am sorry to hear that.” Eiffel looks at the handkerchief in surprise before laughing wetly. “You have a handkerchief? Thats hysterical! And its okay, it happens. I just wish he had pawned her or something, then maybe I could have gotten enough money to get her back…” he shakes his head a little to get rid of his morose mood before continuing. “Oh, um, I meant to ask but got distracted. I don’t have any clothes cause you threw them out, and I am absolutely not walking around naked. Any chance you’ve got a plan for that?” Dmitri snorts derisively. “I would rather you didn’t as well. I have something you can wear, I will get you replacements later.” He stands up and walks to a chest of drawers, throwing a set of pajamas onto the bed. “There, can you stand?” Eiffel doesn’t move, tightening the blankets around him. “Yeah, but I’m not moving until you leave. I know you’re a doctor and all but I’m not okay with you seeing me in my underwear. Can you leave?” Dmitri crosses his arms infront of his chest, glaring at him in irritation. “What part of, 'I do not care’ do you not understand? And I have already seen you in your underwear, is pointless to be shy now. But fine. If you collapse you can crawl back to bed.” Dmitri leaves, saying something in Russian as he goes.

Eiffel moves slowly, but is pleased that moving is nowhere near as bad as he thought it would be after getting beaten with a crowbar and walking barefoot through glass and snow. 'Could always be worse!’ he thinks cheerfully and limps to the bathroom. Obviously Dmitri has a lot of money to waste, because his bathroom is freaking nice. Eiffel pauses for a moment infront of the massive mirror above the marble topped sink. 'Holy shit, I look awful.’ He’s covered in bright splashes of color from his bruises, his ribs clearly visible against his skin and his hair lank and ragged. Its with no small relief that he showers, ignoring the pain of the cut on the back of his head in order to wash his hair. Afterwards, he peeks around the door to make sure that Dmitri isn’t in the bedroom before shuffling out and putting on the clothes he put on the bed for him, feeling embarrassed at how much bigger they are on him than he anticipated. He looks around the bedroom for the first time, noticing the full effect of it. The bed he’s been laying in is massive, with silk sheets and an embroidered duvet covered in stars and planets. The room itself is pleasantly dark, with wood floors that are freezing under Eiffel’s bare and sore feet. He shivers and grabs one of the blankets piled on the bed, wrapping up in it and opening the bedroom door to walk into the living room.

Dmitri is reading on the couch, looking up when he hears the door creek open to see Eiffel, wrapped in a blanket and in clothes atleast two sizes too big for him with his hair hanging wetly around his face. He turns his face away to hide his amused grin before glancing at Eiffel out of the corner of his eye as he flops onto the couch beside him. “Is there any chance you have a ponytail holder? I can’t find mine.” “Niet, I do not own any. An oversight, I see.” Eiffel nods, sighing and pushing his hair out of his face before flinching as his fingers brush the back of his head. Immediately Dmitri gently turns his face away from him to look at it, making a disapproving sound as he stands up. “Wait here.” Eiffel doesn’t have to wait long, but he whines indignantly when whatever Dmitri puts on the cut stings harshly. “Ow!! Warn me next time, jerk!” Dmitri’s voice is dry as he wraps gauze around Eiffel’s head to keep the cut covered. “I will be sure to. In the meantime, try not to scrub so hard when you wash your hair. Bleeding rather defeats the purpose, yes?” Eiffel sulks as Dmitri finishes what hes doing with his head before he turns his attention to re-bandaging his feet and kneeling down in front of Eiffel. He gets a good look at his face for the first time, his eyes are partially obscured by thick lashes but he can see they’re two-toned, the inner ring around his iris dark gold and the outer almost black which are indistinguishable until you get close. Eiffel’s in the process of marveling that someone so angry has such pretty eyes when Dmitri finishes. He looks at his handiwork a little impassively once he’s done before glancing at his watch and standing. “I have to go to work, here.” He digs in his pocket and holds out a key to him. “If you need to leave, lock the door please.” Eiffel looks at him in shock, refusing to take it. “You would just give me a key to your house?? What if I’m a crazy person?? Or a murderer!” Dmitri shrugs lightly, tossing the key onto the coffee table. “I’ll take my chances. If you need anything just call me, I left a spare phone on the kitchen counter if you need it.” He walks out the front door, apparently oblivious to Eiffel’s complete shock and confusion.

Its around 2 a.m. when Dmitri staggers into the house, pausing when he sees the blue light of the TV faintly illuminating the living room. He takes off his shoes before walking to the couch, peering over it to see Eiffel completely asleep where he left him hours ago and the key still on the coffee table where he tossed it. “What, are you afraid that I will not let you back in if you leave? Idiot.” While his words are derisive, he still keeps his voice low so as to not wake him as he carefully picks him up off the couch to move him to the bedroom. After covering him with a blanket he runs a tired hand over his face before rummaging through a drawer for something to change into before leaving the room. Eiffel wakes up when he hears the faint chimes of a phone’s alarm coming from the living room, and hes briefly confused as to how he got to the bed. The third time the alarm goes off he gets up to investigate, staring in confusion when he sees Dmitri asleep on the couch. 'Of course he’d sleep on the couch, stupid, you took his bed!’ It looks like he just took the time to change into- Eiffel resists the urge to giggle- a NASA t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, his head facing the cushions of the couch as he sleeps flat on his back. The phone jingles again, and Eiffel realizes its not actually an alarm but a phone call. He taps Dmitri on the shoulder and he jolts awake immediately, hearing his phone and quickly sitting up, grabbing it before speaking into it with his voice rough with sleep. “Yes, what is it? Now? Give me five minutes.” He shoots Eiffel a grateful glance before quickly going to the bedroom, returning in slacks and a button-up that he finishes buttoning as he addresses Eiffel. “There is an issue at work, I need to leave. I may not be able to answer my phone, so if you need anything please call the hospital on Wisteria and let them know you need Dmitri.” And with that, hes gone.

Eiffel begins to get worried when an entire day goes by, telling himself that its just because he’s concerned that he’ll be kicked out into the streets again if something happens to Dmitri while he waits in the kitchen and living room, never going into the bedroom where he can’t hear the door. He jumps when he hears the doorknob rattle and looks around the corner of the kitchen door to see Dmitri walk- or rather stagger- in. 'Jesus, he looks awful!’ He looks like he might collapse, and he does the moment he gets close enough to the couch to do so. Eiffel tiptoes closer, ignoring the soreness of his feet to make as little sound as possible in order to check on him. He’s got dark circles under his eyes and he looks as if hes just run a marathon twice, having gone past exhaustion and straight into dead man walking. Eiffel dithers for a moment before bringing a blanket out from the bedroom and covering him in it, leaving the bedroom door open when he finally lays down to sleep. Dmitri wakes up feeling exhausted but its manageable. He looks at the blanket covering him in mild confusion before realizing its source and feeling kind of embarrassed that he just passed out from exhaustion in front of someone, getting up and running a hand through his hair. He grimaces when he smells the disinfectant on his hands and walks to the bedroom to grab something to change into after he showers. Eiffel is asleep, curled up in a nest of blankets and obviously content to stay that way, so he moves quietly to avoid waking him. Feeling significantly more awake after his shower, he dries off and gets dressed before stopping in surprise when he sees Eiffel looking at him from the bed as he walks out of the bathroom. Eiffel’s voice is quiet, and theres something in it that makes him wonder if Eiffel was worried about him. “Hey, you okay? You seemed really tired back there.” “I am fine, merely had a difficult surgery to get through. Took longer than anticipated.” “Oh.” Eiffel thinks for a moment, looking away before looking back at him. “You’re a surgeon? You said you were a doctor before.” He shrugs lightly. “It did not seem important to mention it. How are you feeling? Is walking easier?” Eiffel nods, frowning at the change of subject. “I’m fine, as long as I don’t have to walk too long its no problem. What went wrong with the surgery?” “Patient tried to die a few times. Is common issue.” Eiffel laughs in surprise, saying in an awed but teasing tone, “Oh, they just tried to die? I hate it when that happens.” He giggles a little at his own joke before cocooning himself in a blanket and looking at Dmitri. “You should get some sleep, dude. You look like shit.” Its dark so he’s not totally sure, but it seems like Dmitri smiles a little at him. “I intend too. Goodnight, solnyshko.” Eiffel’s still trying to figure out what that means when Dmitri leaves and sleep claims them both.


	2. Chapter 2

Dmitri ran his fingers through his hair as he read the email his boss sent him, telling him that under no uncertain circumstances he was to have the next three days off to rest after almost a week of non-stop emergency surgeries at the ER. He supposed he must look awful, because even Eiffel had been asking him if he felt okay every time he staggered into the house. With a sigh he stands up from his desk, leaving work and trying to think of how he can fit enough sleep to recover while using the extra time to volunteer at the free clinic. However, all thoughts leave his head the moment he opens his front door and hears the fire alarm in its final throes, taking a deep breath and walking quickly to the kitchen only to pause at the scene before him. Eiffel’s staring dejectedly at the remains of his coffee pot which smolder slightly in the sink, and he can see him go still when he hears him walk in. He turns around slowly, looking very guilty, and Dmitri deliberately stops just past him to hide the fact that hes trying not to laugh at the look on his face. He can see Eiffel’s feet shuffle and feels a moment’s satisfaction that the movement doesn’t seem to hurt him anymore when Eiffel speaks. “I, um, may have killed the coffee pot.” Dmitri fights to keep his voice deadpan, rubbing his chin in thought. “I see. Beda, before you destroy something of mine please tell me first. I like to have advance notice.” Eiffel’s voice cracks a little and he starts gesturing as he talks, feeling anxiety roil in his stomach. “I didn’t mean to, I just reaally wanted some coffee and there were so many buttons and I didn’t know what to press and I don’t know HOW it caught on fire but it did and I panicked and threw it into the sink and I’m really sorry I’ll buy you a new one?” Dmitri shrugs lightly while he grabs Eiffel’s hands, checking for any burns and missing the way Eiffel’s face flushes briefly at the touch. “I do not think you could afford new one, but niet. Is fine. Luckily I have been given next few days off, perhaps will find time to get new one. In meantime, try to remember that fire is hot, solnyshko.” Eiffel looks at him curiously when he makes him sit at the table and walks off, returning with a couple of things in his hands and sitting across from him before grabbing Eiffel’s hands again and putting something on the handful of burns Eiffel accumulated in his misadventure.

Eiffel protests in surprise, “Hey, really, its fine. I don’t even feel them,” and he tries to move his hands away only to earn a brief but intense glare from Dmitri which quells his rebellion instantly. “Okay, well fine then.” He pauses before asking thoughtfully, “Hey, Dmitri, what do the words you’ve been saying mean?” “Which ones, I thought you understood English?” Eiffel scowls at him as Dmitri hides his smile by reaching for a bandage. “I do understand English, jerk, its the weird angry words that I don’t understand. Beda? Solnishka? Something like that.” Dmitri looks thoughtful for a moment before answering. “Well, beda means disaster. Which you are. But alas, I cannot tell you what solnyshko means.” “Disaster?! Rude! Accurate, but very rude! And why not?!” Dmitri looks at him from under his lashes, still fussing over his hands, and says with the tiniest of smiles- the combination of both doing considerable damage to Eiffel’s heart, “Is terrible word. Not worth repeating.” Eiffel makes an appalled noise and aims a light kick at Dmitri’s leg, startling a laugh from him that causes Eiffel’s heart to race even faster. “I don’t believe you, I’m gonna look it up!” Dmitri cuts his eyes at him, smiling openly now. “Of course, but can you spell it?” Eiffel’s face flushes and he turns away, crossing his arms and pouting. “Well, since you are obviously too busy being upset I suppose I will not bother asking if you wanted to go with me to buy a replacement coffee pot, hmm?” Eiffel perks up instantly, saying quickly, “No no no it’s fine lets go!” Standing to hide his expression, Dmitri motions for Eiffel to follow him. “First, perhaps would be best if you did not go out in 10 degree weather in pajamas.” He shows Eiffel to the closet in the bedroom, a massive walk-in meticulously organized, and takes down a set of clothes that are closer to Eiffel’s size, a pale pink buttonup and slacks. Eiffel’s not sure what he feels at the sight of what must be someone else’s clothes; ‘Its totally not jealousy,’ he tells himself. “Here, this should work fine.” Dmitri hands them over and leaves for Eiffel to get dressed, oblivious to the way all of Eiffel’s excitement has died the instant he notices that they don’t have the faint smell of Dmitri’s cologne that permeates everything he’s worn so far.

Heart sinking, he dresses slowly, stepping out of the room while still buttoning up his shirt and missing the way Dmitri looks at his bare chest and the jagged scars that range across it. “I had terrible taste, didn’t I?” He looks up in surprise, his hands stilling, and Dmitri seems disapproving and a little embarrassed. “When I first came here, that was all I could afford. I keep forgetting to burn it. Remind me when I get home, yes?” “These are yours? But they’re my size!” Dmitri makes a face that Eiffel can’t read, saying slowly, “Yes. To get enough money to come here is…difficult. Sacrifices must be made. Thankfully is no longer necessary.” Realization dawns across Eiffel’s face as he understands how much Dmitri must have given up to come here, and before he can say anything Dmitri hands him a pair of sneakers. “Unless you want to walk barefoot again.” He plops down on the couch to put them on, rising and following Dmitri out the door after, stopping when Dmitri hands him a jacket. He’s glad Dmitri isn’t paying attention as he slips it on, telling himself that he’s not excited about wearing it.

'Jesus Christ, its freaking cold. I’d have died if I stayed outside during this, shit.’ Eiffel feels like its been years since he went outside, but really its only been about a month total. He’d been too sick and honestly afraid that if he left Dmitri wouldn’t want him back in the house even if he said he didn’t mind. They’d not actually talked about Eiffel staying, and it made him constantly worried that all of the things he has right now will just go away, and he’ll be back on the streets and hoping he doesn’t die. Dmitri stops walking when he sees that Eiffel has paused just outside the front door. “Solnyshko, do you intend to stay there all day?” Eiffel shakes himself out of it, catching up before Dmitri leaves without him. “Nope, sorry, I just forgot how fucking cold it is outside.” Dmitri glances at him furtively, keeping his voice casual as he asks, “Tell me, solnyshko, how did you end up like that?” Eiffel grimaces, scratching at his chest nervously. “Its not really a nice story. Its actually hysterically depressing.” “Well, consider it your payment for my coffee pot. After all, it was my favorite.” Voice cracking, Eiffel apologizes profusely. “I’m sorrryyyy, I didn’t mean to!” “I do not think anyone means to set something ablaze like that, beda, I believe it is frequently accidental.” “If I tell you will you stop guilt tripping me?” “Da.” Eiffel sighs, kicking at a clump of snow as they walk. “Alright, you win. So, when I was 18 I got sick of living with my dad, especially after he sent me to the hospital for the sixth time that year, and I didn’t have any place to go. I ended up joining the army and spending eight years there, but I decided I didn’t want to keep playing soldier and went home. Only, dad had sold the house and dropped off the face of the Earth. I only had enough money to stay in a hotel for a few months, after that.. I had Stella, and some clothes, and that was all.” After a quiet moment, Dmitri asks curiously, “Why did you name your instrument Stella?” “Stella was my dog’s name as a kid. I loved Stella and she was really protective of me, we went everywhere together and she even slept in my bed. Dad shot her when she bit him after he glassed me.” Eiffel sees Dmitri’s jaw clench when he glances at him and feels a little panicked for some reason. “I mean, it happened years ago, I don’t even remember what type of dog she was anymore.” As if he can’t help it, Dmitri reaches over to very gently place a hand on Eiffel’s lower back. “You do not have to lie. I am sorry, solnyshko.” He tenses in surprise when Eiffel wraps his arms around him suddenly, knocking the wind out of him at the impact. With agonizing slowness he gives in to the temptation and hugs him back, feeling him sigh. After a moment Eiffel lets go and rubs at his slightly red eyes before grinning at Dmitri’s unreadable expression to hide his embarrassment. “Sorry, sometimes you just need a hug, right?” He quickly changes the subject, “Anywho, now that you’ve unlocked my tragic backstory you gotta tell me something about you. Why do you work so much until you’re about to pass out?”

They begin walking again in silence as he gathers his thoughts until he says, so quietly that Eiffel has to get close to hear him. “When I first became a surgeon here, I made a horrible mistake that lead to the deaths of three people. I had gotten too proud of myself, and that ended their lives. I am trying to make up for that.” Eiffel scoffs. “Well, thats stupid. How can you help anyone if you work yourself to death?” Dmitri looks at him for a long moment with that same unreadable expression before smiling slightly. “Good point, solnyshko.” “I know it is.” Dmitri laughs softly, Eiffel stopping in his tracks when he realizes where they’ve been walking to, one of the priciest department stores in the city. This is one of the stores that Eiffel wouldn’t have been able to step inside, much less busk in front of, and yet here he is with Dmitri patiently holding the door for him. He steps in staring around in awe while Dmitri walks to the counter to ask about something before looking at him in amusement. “You act as if you have never seen a store before. Stop blocking the entrance and come on.” Dmitri leads him to a selection of housewares, stopping in front of a weird looking glass pitcher. “Do you think you could use this? I specifically asked about one with absolutely no buttons, so you cannot blame confusion when you next set it ablaze, beda.” “It. Was. An. Accident!” The way Dmitri’s voice shakes with silent laughter fills Eiffel’s head with thoughts he’s too embarrassed to focus on. “I am sure it was. But, I am guessing that perhaps this is too advanced? Maybe just instant coffee. Or, better yet, I could just buy it premade so you do not have to go near anything in the kitchen.” Eiffel slaps him on the arm indignantly making him laugh in delight at getting a rise out of him. Heart pounding, he quickly turns his face to the ground to hide his expression while Dmitri is distracted by something.

Thinking for a moment, he says casually, “Hey, can I see your phone really quick?” Dmitri nods distractedly, looking at something in a display case while handing it to him. “Dmitri, whats that word you always call me?” “Solnyshko?” Eiffel’s next words make Dmitri freeze in horror, looking at him with wide eyes. “This is really weird, google says that means little sun? I think its broken, cause that makes no sense.” Eiffel looks at him in confusion as Dmitri turns his face away, the back of his neck furiously red as he attempts a casual response. “Yes, very strange.” “Wait, is that what you’ve been calling me??” “Niet.” “You’re lying.” “Am not.” “Then why are you blushing?” “Is hot, give me back phone.” Eiffel holds above his head, using his longer reach to keep it away from him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t at all prepared for the way Dmitri presses against him, gently grabbing his wrist to lower his hand. 'Oh God, too close, too close, fuck AHHHH’ Eiffel steps away, practically throwing the phone at him before gushing out the words, “Okay, well, theres your phone did you figure out what coffee pot you’re getting?” Dmitri stares at him for a moment before seeming to shut something down behind his eyes, like he’s turned off his emotions. “Yes. Did you want to find something for you to wear while we’re here?” Eiffel nods, quickly walking towards the clothes as Dmitri lags behind. An hour later Eiffel’s loaded down with bags, feeling exhausted as Dmitri hails them a taxi. “How come I have to carry everything?” “Because I do not want to.” “You suck, did you know that?” “You have mentioned it.” Dmitri opens the car door for him before sliding in beside him and telling the driver where to go.

He’s not sure his heart can take much more of this when Eiffel lays his head on his shoulder, asleep, but he can’t stop himself from wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 'Just until we get home, then I’ll be very good. Let me have this much.’ He tells himself, feeling his heart sink when they get to the house much sooner than he wanted. Dmitri slowly untangles himself from the sleeping man, careful to keep him from waking, and brings their things inside before coming back to get him. Eiffel just mumbles something about letting him sleep when he tries to wake him up, so with a sigh he tips the taxi driver and picks him up. He’s somehow able to get the door closed behind him, but when he tries to lay him on the bed Eiffel just wraps his arms around his neck and nearly pulls him on top of him. His mind screaming, Dmitri tries to unclasp his hands but when Eiffel just hugs him close he gives up, his control slipping as he holds him for a moment. 'Just for a second.’ he tells himself, but again when he tries to untangle himself Eiffel just clings more. “You do not make this easy, do you?” he says to him before sighing, knowing he won’t get a response, and taking off his shoes. It takes some time, but he’s able to lay next to Eiffel without waking him even though it seems Eiffel refuses to let him go, snuggling close the moment Dmitri’s head hits the pillow. Taking deep, even breaths when Eiffel lays his head on his chest and wraps his arm around his waist in an attempt to clear his mind, Dmitri falls asleep instead.


	3. Chapter 3

Eiffel woke up slowly, wondering why he felt so warm and comfortable and regretting that he felt completely rested so he can't go back to sleep. Blinking to clear his eyes, a tiny yelp escapes his lips as he realizes exactly why while his mind races to figure out how he got in this situation. Dmitri’s arm is under his head, his legs tangled with Eiffel’s as he sleeps, and when Eiffel jerks back unconsciously from shock he wraps his free arm around his waist to pull him closer. Eiffel lets out a tiny, almost silent scream, feeling his every inch of skin flush as his mind goes crazy. ‘Oh no no no no no I’m not even remotely prepared for this you have to WARN ME DMITRI I think I’m gonna have a heart attack oh God he’s so handsome and TOO FUCKING CLOSE’ Eiffel’s attempts to free himself wake Dmitri, who looks sleepy and confused and 'fuck, he’s cute AHHHH.’ The instant he sees how they’re sleeping he jerks away, putting room between them before tiredly rubbing his eyes and saying in a voice rough with sleep. “Apologies, did not realize I had fallen asleep.” Eiffel’s voice cracks. “How… why??” Dmitri glances at him from the corner of his eye, laying on his back as he tries to wake up fully. “You fell asleep on the way, would not wake up so I had to bring you inside, then you would not let go. Was just going to stay until you did but fell asleep. Again, apologies.”

Eiffel covers his face with his hands, thinking of just how Dmitri would have had to bring him inside and feeling his skin turn hot from embarrassment. Just as quickly, however, he goes cold when he thinks of how tired Dmitri must have been to fall asleep. The way he’s waking up speaks volumes, since normally as soon as anything goes off on his phone or Eiffel walks into the room he’s awake and seemingly rested. But here, he’s drowsy and completely relaxed, obviously loathe to get up when he stands with a sigh, looking at his rumpled clothes disapprovingly. Eiffel wonders whats different while Dmitri walks to the bathroom to change clothes, coming out after twenty minutes with slightly damp hair and looking significantly more awake. “Do you want coffee?” “Duh.” Laughing a little, Dmitri heads to the kitchen and leaves Eiffel alone with his thoughts.

Ten minutes later Eiffel shuffles into the kitchen to grab himself a cup of coffee, ignoring Dmitri’s innocent suggestion of asking for help if he needs it with as much dignity as he can muster before plopping down on the couch beside Dmitri and pulling his feet up to rest his coffee cup on his knees. After a minute of silence Dmitri says in confusion, looking at his phone, “My boss has called the clinic and told them not to let me come in. That bastard.” He looks over at Eiffel, obviously at a loss for what to do with his time. “I cannot go to work, and I cannot volunteer, so now what, any ideas?” Eiffel’s hands tighten on the cup he’s holding and he says quietly, “Maybe we could find a place for me to live? I’ve been here long enough, I think.” He can’t look at Dmitri, who can feel his heart plummet at those words. Painfully he asks, “You would like to have your own place?” Dreading the answer, he also avoids looking at Eiffel, who fidgets in order to distract himself. “Yeah, I’ve been here for a while and I’ve been thinking about it. I’m sure you’re sick of dealing with me-” “Never, solnyshko. You are always welcome to stay.” Eiffel looks at him in surprise before blurting out, “But- this whole time you’ve never actually said whether you mind or not so I thought you were just, like, being polite so why didn’t you say anything??” “I-” Eiffel cuts him off, ranting in frustration. “You’re so hard to read! Like, so hard to read! Fuck! You can’t say stuff like that and sound all sad and,” he makes an exasperated noise, “I can’t tell if you actually like me or not and I have the biggest stupidest crush on you but you’ve never even noticed and I thought that maybe I should leave because I’m just being this mooch and-” Dmitri cuts off his rant with a question. “You… you like me?” Eiffel throws his hands up in exasperation. “Obviously! God, you’re so nice and amazing and unfairly good looking and I haven’t really been subtle but you’re always just-” All the air in his lungs leaves him the instant Dmitri puts a hand on the back of his neck and pulls him into a kiss, half-dragging Eiffel into his lap with his fingers digging into his hip and tangling in his hair before seeming to realize what he’s doing and pulling away to look at him with an embarrassed expression.

Eiffel looks at him, dazed, and he laughs a little at his expression. “Sorry, I, ah, didn’t mean to be quite so aggressive. Have been very good until now, but it has been difficult.” Weakly, Eiffel asks, “Waitwaitwait- you like me too?” Dmitri kisses him again, softly this time, before saying, “To be honest it is more like love, but yes.” Eiffel just lays his head on his shoulder, mind reeling while Dmitri wraps his arms around him and asks, concerned, “Are you alright?” His voice is muffled as he says, quietly, “I love you too.” He can feel Dmitri’s affectionate chuckle as he kisses the top of his head before saying in a deadpan, “Do you still want to find a place to live? If you do not mind, I am perfectly fine with sharing the bed-” Eiffel looks at him with an expression that makes his heart pound and face flush while he says nervously, “Ah, wait, I did not mean it quite like that-” His next words are forgotten as Eiffel covers his mouth with his, shutting him up effectively before replying. “I think I would be okay with that.”


End file.
